


Never forget you

by bluenna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, High School AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6427453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluenna/pseuds/bluenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>clarktavia hs!au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never forget you

Octavia's thigh hurts. She's trying to walk normally, but this weird limping thing she's got going on isn't really working for her. She's been getting weird looks the entire day, and she thinks it might be because she looks like something's up her vagina (just to clarify: there isn't.) It's her own fault, and she's going to bear with it, but fuck it really hurts.

”Yeah, I can't run today,” Octavia tells the P.E. teacher, who raise her brows while checking through the list of names in her planner. ”I sprained the back of my thigh yesterday.”

The teacher sighs. She ticks a name off the list after another and tells one of the girls to go change out of her jeans before responding to Octavia. 

”You need to warm up before exercising, Blake. That's how you prevent injuries.”

Octavia clears her throat and wrings her hands together. ”Yeah,” she mutters. ”So… can I sit this one out?”

The teacher huffs, displeased, but waves her hand towards the bleachers, and Octavia staggers her way over to the seats. There's another girl sitting there, her blonde hair fallen over her eyes and notebook spread on her lap, and Octavia sits next to her with a sigh.

”I didn't actually sprain my muscle exercising,” she whispers to the girl,” but I couldn't exactly tell her I was masturbating all day yesterday, and forgot how legs work while aiming for my tenth orgasm.”

A strangled sound erupts from the blonde's mouth, and she whips her head to stare at Octavia with her lips parted slightly, and a blush covering her cheeks. Octavia realizes she has never seen the girl before, and her first impression of Octavia is going to be that she can't keep her hands out of her own pants. 

Octavia closes her eyes. Someone should really tape her mouth shut or someday she's going to say something that will absolutely ruin her life.

”I-” the girl says, blinking. ”That's… nice?”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and presses her lips together, glancing towards the field where the other girls have gathered around the teacher. She's without a doubt reconsidering her reason not to join the class, and Octavia can't blame her. She decides to stay quiet for the rest of the class, takes her biology book, notebook and pen out of her backpack, and spreads them beside her on the bench.

”I'm Clarke, by the way,” the girl next to her speaks up after a moment.

Octavia abandons her homework instantly. 

”Octavia. Sorry for the bad first impression, I sometimes forget how to behave.” She smiles apologetically, and watches as Clarke smiles back, her bright blue eyes twinkling.

”That's fine. Better than fine, actually. It's my first day here, and everyone's been so polite and cheerful, it's starting to annoy me.”

Octavia supresses a grimace. She should've known Clarke was new; it was the only plausible explanation for Octavia not knowing her. Nice.

”Ah,” Octavia says. ”Welcome then, I guess. Although, I should probably warn you, this town is filled with gossipers and we haven't had anyone new here since, like, 2010. People are going to be all up in your business for a while.”

”Thanks, I'll keep that in mind,” Clarke says, and smiles. Octavia feels something warm blooming in her chest at the sight, and stomps it down quickly. It's too soon to develop a crush on the new girl, no matter how cute she seems. 

She shakes herself mentally, looks down at the notebook on Clarke's lap, and raises her eyebrows in surprise. She has never been good at drawing, has never had the patience to keep practising, but Clarke though, she has a gift. There are half a dozen sketches of a girl's face, and Octavia recognizes her immediately.

”Shit,” she breaths out. ”Those are really good.”

To Octavia's delight, Clarke blushes again. ”Yeah… I kinda binge watched the first season of Shadows during the weekend, and fell in love.”

Octavia hums in agreement. ”My fave part was when she knocked out that dickhead with a bottle of wine cooler.”

Clarke barks out a laugh, then covers her mouth in surprise. She keeps laughing, though, her shoulders shaking, and Octavia thinks she might be the tiniest bit in love.

Oh, well.

– – – 

 

Clarke asks Octavia to show her around after school, and Octavia takes her to the only decent pizza place in town. There aren't many places worth introducing, but Octavia thinks Clarke can appreciate fast food, although she is appaled when Clarke orders her pizza with pineapple on her pizza.

They do their homework once theyre full, and Octavua tells Clarke which teachers will always be late in case she ever needs a few more minutes to get to class.

It's easy, and as Octavia watches Clarke stab her pen through one of her school nooks, she decides this girl will be her new best friend from then on. She informs Clarke of this, and watches with amusement as the girl grins widely and a blush spreads on her cheeks.

– – – 

As weeks go by Octavia becomes convinced Clarke might actually be her soulmate. They both hate Chemistry and love Math, eat way too much take out and spend too many hours a week watching Netflix. There's the unhealthy obsession with olives they both share, and the inabillityto ot take a game in P.E. seriously.

There's a problem however. Octavia's crush on the girl has developed from “???” to “!!!” and she's not sure whether or not she should tell Clarke how she feels. On one hand, they've only known each other for two months and this feeling might be just excitement over a new friend. On the other one Octavia fucking knows herself and she'd be fooling absolutely no one if she said she wasn't on her way to falling in love. So…  
Now she just has to find out if Clarke's straight or not and then… she'll figure out the rest later. How she's going to find out Clarke's sexuality, though, she's not sure. She can't just ask. Clarke would know. But then again, Clarke won't ask her either.

Octavia almost gets a headache thinking about it, then thinks 'fuck it' and makes her way over to Clarke. She runs the steps up to the porch two at a time and knocks, wringing her hands together nervously. 

Clarke opens the door in a pink crop top and shorts, her hair pulled into a ponytail, and Octavia's brain pretty much short-circuits. For a moment she's unable to say anything, then she blurts out, “hey, I'm gay,” and covers her mouth with a grimace. 

That was not how she was supposed to tell her, but somehow her foot seems to be exceptionally attracted to her mouth. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and looks at Clarke, feeling a bit lighter now that the cat's out of the bag and running around freely.

Clarke blinks. “What?”

Octava coughs and pushes her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I'm a lesbian,” she says.

Clarke's eyebrows rise on her forehead ans she bites down on her lip, unsuccesfully trying to keep herself from smiling. “That's nice.”

Octavia grins. “I know.” They stare at each other for ten seconds, then Octavia thinks 'fuck it' again, and asks, “how about you?”

Clarke's brows rise even higher. “Me?”

“Yeah.” Octavia shrugs. “I'm just wondering if I can drool over girls with you.”

Clarke laughs. She opens the door wider and Octavia remembers they aren't even in the house. She hopes at least one neighbour has heard their exchange.

“I'm bi. Come on in, I'm watching the X-Files, we can make heart eyes at Scully together.”

Octavia thinks, fuck yes, and bounces inside, feeling extremely giddy.

– – – 

The crush officially goes from “!!!” to “!!11!!!” as Octavia watches Clarke run across the soccer field in tiny blue gym shorts. She tries to kick the ball that comes her way, but misses, falls flat on her ass, and watches as Harper snatches the ball and starts to dribble in the other direction.

“Octavia?” Clarke comes to a halt in front of her, laughing so hard she's barely able to breathe. “Are you okay?”

No, I'm dying, Octavia thinks. She takes the hand Clarke offers her and gets up with a grunt. “I'm fine, I just...” she thinks for a moment. “Lost my footing.”

Clarke cackles. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, the teacher shouts at them to get back to the game, and Clarke turns around and starts jogging towards the ball. She throws a grin over her shoulder, and Octavia hopes doesn't realize she was staring at her ass.

“I'm so gay, so, so gay,” she mutters, then runs after Clarke.

They end up losing – a rare occurance – because for some reason neither Octavia or Clarke are enirely focused on the game. Clarke seems to be skipping around the field just for the fun of it and Octavia keeps stumbling over her own feet. When she falls for the tenth time, the teacher blows her whistle and Octavia decides she'll just stay there, staring at the sky and trying to steady her breath. She succeeds at evening her breathing, but for some reason her heart keeps beating wildly in her chest.

She turns her head when she senses Clarke coming closer, and watches as the other girl lays down on the grass next to her. They don't speak; Clarke watches the sky and Octavia watches her – her rosy cheeks, relaxed expression and blonde hair that has been let ouf of the ponytail. She might look for a bit too long, but doesn't look away when Clarke turns to look at her.

“We sucked,” Clarke says and grins.

Octavia answers her smile. “We did. What did the teacher say?”

“She was proud of the other team. Told us to step up.”

Octavia laughs and looks up at the sky. There are barely any clouds, and the sunshine is warm on her face.

“They're leaving,” Clarke says. She waves her hand towards the edge of the field where the rest of the class is. “I don't feel like moving yet.”

Octavia hums. “We can stay for a bit.”

She closes her eyes, breaths in and relaxes against the ground. She knows she should get up, go home to take a shower, but what bad does another ten minutes of lying around do? She hears Clarke breathing next to her, feels the warmth of her body, and then, a hand gripping hers. She interlaces their fingers together and smiles.

– – – 

“Great, so we have the outline done, only about nine hundred pieces to go.”

Octavia groans and lets her head fall on the soft carpet. She glares up at Clarke, who's sitting across the puzzle and looking like the scattered pieces are the most interesting thing she has ever seen in her life.  
(Octavia seriously regrets bying Clarke the puzzle for her birthday. Who even likes puzzles, apart from five-year-olds?)

“This is gonna take hours,” Octavia mumbles.

Clarke sighs happily. “I know,” she says, and grins at Octavia. She knows how much this pains Octavia. Asshole.

Octavia rolls over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. She finds patterns in the boards and imagines what it would feel like if the house suddenly collapsed on top them. She figures it wouldn't be that bad: Clarke would die doing what she loves the most, and Octavia would be with the person she loves the most.

It's a startling thought, and Octavia blinks up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling betrayed by it. She knows her feelings towards Clarke have crossed from crushing to love some time ago, but… she shakes her head. She doesn't want to think about how important exactly the girl is to her, because soon she will start feeling desperate and sad around Clarke. She never wants to feel anything but hapiness around the girl, especially when she's the epitome of everything good in the world.

Octavia closes her eyes and wishes she could just stop thinking altogether.

“Do you want to do something else?” Clarke asks. Octavia hears her drop the pieces from her hand to the floor.

“Nah.” She open her eyes and looks at Clarke. “I'm not a fan of puzzles, but I like watching you do it.”

A slow smile spreads on Clarke's lips, and Octavia notices herself responding to it.

“Okay,” Clarke says. She looks down at the puzzle again, unfazed by Octavia's continuing staring.

It goes on for another hour. At some point Octavia starts ELEPHANT the pieces by color and pushes them towards Clarke when she runs out of pieces. Clarke's nowhere near done by the time she gets up stretches, her arms above her head, but Octavia figures even she needs a break sometimes. She sits up and shakes her hand; she's been supporting her head with it and her wrist is hurting.

“Wanna get something to eat?” Clarke asks. She stands with her hands on her hips at looks at Octavia, who hops up before she's even finished the question.

“Yes.”

Clarke presses her lips together, smiling, and motions Octavia to follow her, as if Octavia wouldn't otherwise. They make sandwiches, and Clarke finds a half full bag of chips from one of the kitchen cabinets. They take their food back to Clarke's room and sit down around the puzzle. 

Octavia pushes one fourth of her sandwich into her food and grins at Clarke when the girl rolls her eyes.

“That's disgusting,” Clarke informs her.

“Ha,” Octavia says once she's swallowed. “I know.”

She proceeds to finish her snack in the at the same speed and nicks the chips when she's done. Clarke's a slower eater, although she's not far behind. She grabs the bag back from Octavia and laughs at the wounded noise Octavia makes.

“I can't believe this.” Octavia sniffs. “Betrayed. By my own best friend.”

Clarke giggles. 

“I'm serious,” Octavia says, very seriously. “I'm hurt. The bag cut my finger.” She holds up her index finger and wiggles it.

“There's nothing there.”

“I'm bleeding,” Octavia insists.

“Aw, poor baby. Do you want me to kiss it better?”

Octavia raises her eyebrows at Clarke, and ignores her wildly beating heart. “You'd better.”

Clarke hums and sets the chips on the floor. She leans over the puzzle and grabs Octavia's hand and presses her lips against the tip of her index finger. Octavia swallows, hopes it's not audible and forces herself to stay still. Clarke glances up at her, then proceeds to kiss her other fingers too.

The air catches in Octavia's throat and the fingers of her other hand clench against the carpet. She watches Clarke lean back, and tries to breathe while Clarke gazes back at her.

She could swear Clarke knows. She could swear, but she doesn't want to, because that would mean Clarke knows, and that is slightly terrifying. She licks her lips and thinks back, trying to figure out when she might have slipped. After a whole three seconds she realizes it could've been anywhere between meeting Clarke and now.

She becomes aware of her hand, still hovering mid-air, and lets it fall on her thigh.

”I-”

Clarke cuts her off. ”You have another one.”

Octavia blinks. ”What?”

”Another cut.”

Before Octavia can ask her what she means, Clarke leans in again, crawls over the puzzle, messing it up, and raises her hand. Her fingers hover over Octavia's lips, and Octavia's heart stutters.

”Right here,” Clarke murmurs.

”Huh,” Octavia breaths, and-

Clarke kisses her. Chastely, lightly, gently; her fingers ghost over Octavia's jaw, her eyes close and Octavia is so aware of it all, more aware than she has ever been of anything. 

She had thought… whenever she had imagined it, she had thought she would get lost in the kiss, no matter how slow or desperate the kiss would be. She had thought her brain would shut down and her body would act on its own accord, her body melting into Clarke like it was meant to.

Instead, she swear she can feel the exact imprints of Clarke's fingers against her own skin, smells the faint lavender of Clarke's shampoo and is so, so aware how their mouth fit perfectly together. She pushes forward slowly, parts her lips, and sighs into Clarke's mouth when the girl tilts her head and kisses her deeper.

“Oh,” Octavia whispers when they part. She doesn't have the words to describe what she's feeling, but she has to say something.

Clarke hums. She presses their foreheads together and chuckles. “We should've done that sooner.”

Octavia licks her lips and tries to gather her thoughts. “How… how much sooner?”

“Two years ago.”

Octavia grins and pulls back to look Clarke in the eyes. “We haven't known each other that long.”

Clarke shrugs. “Still.”

“Yeah,” Octavia agrees, smiling. “Still.”

– - -

Octavia stands on the edge the soccer field with her hands clasped behind her back and an innocent look on her face. Next to her, Clarke is wearing a similar expression, only she's going for a tad more miserable.

“I can't play today,” Octavia says, catching the P.E. teacher's attention. “I sprained my thigh.”

“Me too,” Clarke says, and bites her lip in order not to smile.

Their teacher runs a hand down her face and sighs sufferingly.


End file.
